Posted in the spring of 2016.
Meditation is not your gig. You do not know how to live in the present. You get lost in the past, fantasize about the future. The Now is your enemy.
The Now is a numb series of distractions to endure. A moody zone of restlessness and rootlessness. A cycle of manic exercise, feverish writing, fits of OCD and sleep.
You think you don’t need meditation. You exist with only the Highest Expectations. When you are angry, you melt down. When you are inspired, you create. You write with courage. You practice with boldness. You can do tough physical asana. You are successful. Best of all, you are free. Everybody loves you.
You are always in motion, but you are not seeking. You are ultra-flexible, but far too stubborn. You want answers, but you refuse to listen. You take pride in your wisdom, but you are unable to learn from experience. You believe you have conquered Ego but your arrogance is terrifying.
Today you are here. In a room. You are cynical. Remember. Meditation is not your gig. But you like the instructor. He gets you. His energy is healing for you. So you are giving it a shot.
You close your eyes. Breathe. You are self-conscious. But padmasana is easy. Back straight. Breathe. Tune out. See? Easy.
Eighty seconds later. Boredom, knees hurting, padmasana is not easy, back straight without a wallrest is bloody hard, tuning out is now inviting you to tune in. Tune in to the need for a cigarette. Did you leave the gas turned on before leaving home? Oh fuck. Anxiety. Remember the time you were with him and you thought his kitchen would blow up because of a gas leak, and you both had a paranoid laughing fit?
Today you are not laughing, for a year you are not laughing, you want to kill him. And others like him. For breaking your heart, for poisoning your soul, for smashing your faith.
Your meditation is not peaceful. It’s really just thoughts of revenge. Your pranayama is actually the fantasy of karmic justice. Really? Revenge against whom? And what injustice? He was a confused kid, and had even more issues than you, was drowning faster than you, did you even bother to see that? But as usual, you were selfish and vain and playing your favourite game : drama. You wanted to be saved when you should have done the saving.
Anyway, the past is done and cannot be undone.
Time seems to have stopped, your knees are better, your chest is calm, but your legs are like lead. They’ve fallen asleep, and it feels like one thousand needles are plunging into your skin. Breathe deeply. This is nothing. Your grandfather, aged 27, fell to bullets on the Russian Front. Your patient mother has given birth three times. Your sweet neighbour is undergoing chemotherapy. What are you whining about?
Someone’s I-Phone screeches. Let it be. You are a baby, and you are safe in this womb.
You lie down in shavasana and the pain releases, drifting out and away from your body. It feels alright. It will take years for a creature of such extremes as you. Years of learning. Time is running out. Time goes so fast. Maybe you don’t have years. Maybe you don’t have even ten minutes, because what if you walk out of the Bhakti Wellness Centre, in thoughts that have nothing to do with the present, and get hit by a truck and drop dead and learn nothing?
Relax. You are doing fine. For all your madness, you are brave. You are a survivor, a thriver, a lover. You are so lucky. Be grateful. Forgive yourself. Let it go. Move on.
Now open your eyes.